These are my musings and observations on my daily life, loves and the laughter that are all a part of my experience of living now in the shires of England.

Monday, 16 April 2012

The path of grief ...


The path of grief

... is long and winding. Or short and straight. Or both. Or neither.

My road of grief took me back to where my parents are buried. I don’t go there too often because it seems to hurt even more than when I am away with my thoughts and deep sadness. You see, although I have bundles of happiness in my days my life is still lined with grief. For over 36 years I have been almost insane with grief. There are times when the pain is searing like a slab of raw meat thrown onto hot coals.

In my family of many I know we all experienced a major loss – especially when our mother died. I know now that the grief united us and separated us from each other. I became very angry in those initial days, months and years. Anger, self-pity and spite was an integral part of my external expression of grief. I was still a child and I didn’t care much that my way of communication hurt me as much as it hurt other people. I just let it go. Or I held it in. Or I did both. Or I did neither.

Why am I talking about grief again? Does it ever go away?

I have just enjoyed a wonderful couple of weeks with my most favourite people in the world, my child and my partner. They never made me sad at all but they may have witnessed moments of my uncovered sorrow when I visited my parents’ resting place.

My child told me that I was almost unrecognisable as I stayed at the foot of the grave alone. The sadness was unzipped and covered me like a heavy blanket.

I remember some of it. I felt like a small child. I howled with uncontrollable emotion each time I went to that special spot where I last said goodbye. I sat on my haunches and rocked back and forth as the tears splashed all around me.

I felt like a discarded piece of yarn. I knew I was unravelling. I know things unravel in times of grieving.

Will I ever stop feeling this great loss? I doubt it. Some people suggest it’s time to move on after this long mourning period. Is there ever a time to move on?

It’s time to move on when you feel it’s time, not when the calendar says so.                              

My path of grief is part of my path through life. So is my path of joy, my path of happiness, my path of love. They all exist together but sometimes, just occasionally, one of them is just a bit more prominent than the other. And that’s OK.


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